


that which you seek (seeks you)

by fl4nel



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Astronomer Sakusa Kiyoomi, Atsumu goes soul-searching and finds Sakusa instead, Existential Crisis, M/M, Oikawa is there in spirit, Osasuna are mentioned, Pro Volleyball Player Miya Atsumu, Sakusa looks at the sky until the sky looks back at him with Miya Atsumu's eyes, character study of sorts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-20
Updated: 2020-06-20
Packaged: 2021-03-04 00:48:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,326
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24814828
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fl4nel/pseuds/fl4nel
Summary: "Constellations, Atsumu thinks bitterly, are nothing but man-made, arbitrary connections. Foolish drawings on an intangible canvas. Stars are not connected. They simply exist out there, self-sufficient and blissfully unaware of each other, separated by millions of miles. Atsumu has never given a damn about the emotional state of inanimate objects before, but to him, tonight, it feels impossibly sad."
Relationships: Miya Atsumu/Sakusa Kiyoomi
Comments: 28
Kudos: 239
Collections: Sakuatsu





	that which you seek (seeks you)

**Author's Note:**

> Sakusa made one (1) space metaphor in canon and here we are! Started writing this in February, had a few breakdowns, rewrote the entire thing twice, bon appétit! I hope the space metaphors are tasty
> 
> Thank u mir madi and maureen for ur comments and insights!!!

i.

When his brother texts him out of the blue to announce that he's in a relationship, Atsumu shrugs it off.

Osamu and him both dated other people in high school. It's nothing new. None of their relationships had lasted very long and very few, if any, had been what he'd considered serious. Kinda hard to commit to someone long enough for it to be meaningful when your brain is entirely wired around volleyball.

In Atsumu's case, he figured out very quickly he was more interested in the company and the attention, rather than in any dumb, skin-tingling, butterfly-inducing feelings. He was perceptive enough to know no one really wanted to stick around anyway and prideful enough to scoff at the very idea of chasing after any of them. Osamu never said what it was like for him and Atsumu didn't ask. The thought that their stance on the matter might differ never even crossed his mind.

So, Atsumu shrugs it off, simply assuming this will be the same, albeit a bit more awkward when Osamu will want to break up because he decided to date Suna of all people.

But then, two things happen in quick succession. First, their volleyball season comes to an abrupt end after the Adlers defeat them. Losing to Kageyama and Ushijima is never pleasant, but it definitely feels bitter, and shitty, to end the season on that note.

And second, it quickly becomes very apparent that Osamu isn’t simply in a relationship—no. The bastard’s actually in love. Atsumu is forced to put two and two together when Suna fucking proposes in the middle of their end of season party.

That fact, paired with the staggering amount of free time he has now that the Black Jackals are officially off season, sends Atsumu spiralling down a path of misery and self-pity that have him locking himself in his room for days on end. He refuses to see anyone, preferring to spend his time screaming into his pillow and walking around his place aimlessly like a zombie.

He feels like shit and he’s not entirely sure why. Dissecting his own emotions has never been a forte, but he's angry, he knows that much. Objectively, he knows he should probably call Osamu to congratulate him, but the petty resentment he feels simmering in his stomach prevents him from picking up his phone. He can't believe his twin—his twin!—didn’t tell him about his long-term, serious relationship until literally a few weeks before he got engaged.

It’s not jealousy, he establishes very quickly; he liked Suna as a teammate in high school and he respects him as an opponent now. He'd even consider him a friend, but it’s not like he'd ever bothered to learn much about him outside of volleyball. Maybe he should have.

It’s not that kind of jealousy, but it’s something else. Something equally as rotten and ugly taking root inside his chest. It's lonely and miserable and Atsumu absolutely refuses to let anyone see him that way. He mopes, dramatizes his misery, and overthinks himself into another dimension, but he does so out of sight, thank you very much. Miya Atsumu doesn’t need an audience there to witness his own pathetic attempt at introspection.

It feels like Osamu has won something over him and this is it. He can never catch up. What a joke, admitting defeat over his brother falling in love first. If Atsumu was a good person, he’d be happy for him, but as it stands, he’s having a real hard time feeling anything other than mild offense and a special kind of self-loathing.

People call, because of course they do. Shoyou does, as well as Bokuto and a few of his teammates. He doesn’t answer and texts them some bullshit about spending time alone to reconnect with his inner self. Sounds like crap, even to his own ears. Osamu reaches out eventually and, if Atsumu rejects his call a tad more aggressively than he had the others, then that’s his business and his business alone. His brother sends him a bunch of middle fingers emojis and they leave it at that.

Atsumu doesn’t think that his brother knows exactly why he’s in the slumps, but the two of them are close enough that he can probably guess and that infuriates Atsumu more than he cares to admit. Osamu knows that too, which is probably how he manages to land Atsumu in a coffee shop with their high school volleyball captain.

Kita is used to his antics by now, but that doesn’t mean Atsumu doesn’t _try_ (important keyword here) and hide how miserable he feels. He doesn’t even know why Kita accepted to meet up in the first place. When he’d showed up at his door, no doubt sent by Osamu, Atsumu had panicked and made him wait in the hallway for half an hour while he took his first shower of the week and hastily shoved all of his empty beer bottles and takeout containers in a gigantic garbage bag. And all Atsumu has done ever since they sat down in this empty coffee shop together is complain, groan, complain some more, and softly hit his head on the table.

Unperturbed as ever, Kita hums.

“How would ya like to become a camp counselor for a few weeks?”

This is not a sentence Atsumu would have expected to hear directed at him, ever. He lifts his head up from the table and blinks. “Yer seriously thinkin’ I can take care of children?” He gestures broadly at his own person. “Plus, I gotta stay focused.” He adds, as though his brain wasn’t already a hot, flaming pile of garbage. It’s a shit excuse, too. Official training is weeks away and Kita knows it.

Kita takes a sip of his coffee before answering. He always drinks it decaf, says he likes the taste, but not the feeling of caffeine coursing through his body. Atsumu can’t relate.

“Maybe you need to get out of your own head for a bit, take care of somethin’ that isn’t your pride or your ambitions for once.”

Atsumu winces. Objectively speaking, Atsumu knows he’s a bit of an asshole. But unlike him, Kita doesn’t have a single mean bone in his body. His words sting because there’s truth behind them.

“Besides, it would mostly be helpin’ me out with some administrative tasks and runnin’ errands around the site. The camp’s quiet, it’s nice.”

Atsumu knows when he's being offered an escape route. He takes the time to consider it. Kita volunteers for a summer camp nestled in a forest somewhere in the middle of nowhere, a few hours away from the city by train. Atsumu would have probably tried to get out of town anyway, and with the whole Osamu situation, going back home just isn’t an option.

Maybe nature can do something about this feeling of decay he feels taking over, even if it’s just compost.

Atsumu stares. Kita has pretty eyes and a no-nonsense attitude he envies. Back in high school, he’d often wonders how things could have been had Kita actually cared about romance at all. Atsumu respects him and the weird friendship they have too much to even consider pushing his luck though.

“So.” Kita leans his head on his palm. “What will it be?”

So, because he is a little bit of a masochist, and because he’s desperate to run away, Atsumu says yes.

*

His first few days at camp are every bit what he expected. There’s barely any cell phone service, the kids are loud and boisterous, and the bugs are out to eat them all alive like it’s a fucking buffet. He has to stay in a small dusty cabin with 3 other staff members and what are most likely a few rodents. It’s a nightmare. Atsumu hasn’t slept in a bunk bed since elementary school.

Still, there are a few silver linings. The kids may be loud, but they're a great distraction. The air is pure. The food is surprisingly tasty. He gets to chat with Kita a bunch. The other staff are all nice and respectful of his need for space. The contrast with his own team gives him whiplash, but he learns to appreciate it once he adjusts.

And, even though Atsumu hates to admit it, work does keep his mind busy. He helps set up and clean up campsites, cleans common areas and updates Kita with everything. The kids seem to like him, for whatever reason, and he finds himself genuinely smiling for the first time in weeks. He even starts running again in the mornings and inhabiting his own body, working up a sweat, feels as good as he remembers.

Nighttime remains his favorite part of the whole ordeal, though. The sky alone would make up for everything.

It’s bright and immense and wonderful. Atsumu doesn’t remember ever seeing that many stars—or the Milky Way for that matter.

Camp is close to an astronomy research center and Kita told him they’d made the entire area a dark-sky preserve, which means no light pollution and the clearest view of the night sky Atsumu has ever laid his eyes upon.

It’s grand. Magnificent. Bigger than life and more than his words could ever begin to describe. For once, Atsumu actually wishes he’d gone to college, just so that he’d have all the proper words he needs to describe how truly breathtaking the view is.

“Y'know,” Kita mentions one night when everyone has gone to bed and the two of them are sitting in front of a dying campfire, “I’m pretty sure the view's even nicer up there.” He points towards the top of the hill. “Observatory's on top and ya get to see all the mountains around. It's somethin' else.”

Caught gazing at the sky for the nth time that night, Atsumu flushes. “Yer tellin’ me I should go hike up there in the dark?” He grumbles. “No thanks. The view is plenty great from down here.”

Kita smiles like he knows something Atsumu doesn’t, which he probably does. “I’m not saying you hafta do anythin’.”

Atsumu thinks he’s going to leave it at that, but he stands up, brushing the dirt off his pants. “Just that's it's worth the trip. If ya change your mind, there’s a trail behind the last staff cabin on the right. I’ll see you tomorrow, Atsumu. Please make sure ya put out the fire before goin’ to bed.”

He disappears in his own cabin.

Atsumu blinks at the space Kita just vacated. “I’m not goin’ anywhere tonight,” he tells himself aloud, “It’s late and I don’t wanna get lost.”

He pours water on the sputtering ambers of the fire and deliberately does not look up towards the hill as he makes his way to bed in the dark.

*

Unfortunately, with the quiet comes the space to think. And with the space to think comes the millions of thoughts he’s tried so hard to repress running at a hundred miles an hour in his tired brain. For the first time since he arrived, the sound of crickets and the snoring of his cabinmates is not enough to drown out the intrusive thoughts flashing like neon signs at the back of his mind.

_ You’ve lost the ability to create meaningful connections with people. _

His inner voice almost sounds like it’s Osamu taunting him. _Can ya even lose somethin’ you never had in the first place? Are ya done pretendin’ volleyball is enough to curb your longin’ to connect with those around you?_

“Fuck,” he curses under his breath.

He rubs his eyes with the palms of his hands. “Fuck,” he repeats, louder, and all but launches himself out of bed and out of his cabin before he can wake anyone.

He’s back outside now and without the fire, the night swallows everything outside the vicinity of the faint cabin lights. The forest is nothing but a tall, indiscernible shape behind.

Atsumu looks up. He can still see the Great bear.

Of all the constellations out there, it’s the only one he can recall from when his grandmother had tried to teach his brother and him back in the days, and the only one he can point out with relative confidence. Atsumu remembers thinking it was stupid. It looked like a cooking pan and nothing like a bear. He knows there’s a smaller one out there as well—the Small Bear, or something—but he’ll be damned if someone were to ask him to spot it.

Constellations, Atsumu thinks bitterly, are nothing but man-made, arbitrary connections. Foolish drawings on an intangible canvas. Stars are not connected. They simply exist out there, self-sufficient and blissfully unaware of each other, separated by millions of miles. Atsumu has never given a damn about the emotional state of inanimate objects before, but to him, tonight, it feels impossibly sad.

_ Aren’t you afraid of missing out on something genuine? _

He clenches his fists and looks down at his attire. He’s wearing pajama pants and an old high school sweater that’s too small for him. He’s barefoot.

_ Ah, fuck it. _

The grass under his feet is already dampened by dew, but Atsumu has made up his mind. It’s a small hill. Camp is already halfway up the mountain. How bad a hike could it be?

Just as Kita said, he finds the trail behind the cabin. A narrow thing that twists and turns between the dark figures of the trees looming above and around it. It’s surprisingly well maintained. He hesitates a fraction of a second at the edge of the forest before pushing forward.

He can’t see the moon, but his cell phone flashlight is doing an okay job at lighting the way. The ground is mostly leaves and dirt, but Atsumu can’t fully avoid stepping on rocks and tripping over roots here and there and, after a mere few minutes, his feet are sore and muddy, he’s sweaty, and he’s panting like he ran an entire marathon. Atsumu grimaces, thinking of the mess he’ll have to clean when he’ll come back. If he makes it back. The hike is steeper than he thought it’d be. God, he really has lost his mind, hasn’t he?

At least, it’s late enough for the bugs to mostly leave him be. Atsumu absolutely refuses to even contemplate the thought of the wild animals living in those woods. He picks up the pace.

After at least half an hour of stumbling in the dark and a lot of cursing at himself and at the entire chain of events that led him to this specific point in life, he passes a wire fence that’s been left open. On his left, there’s a rusty sign that reads Private Property. It’s barely visible, which Atsumu takes as a sign to ignore it.

The woods clear up shortly after and, just like that, he reaches the top. He doesn’t know what he expected.

The observatory tower is larger than he thought, standing in the middle of a clearing overlooking the entire area. It’s a tall metal dome with a rectangular gap facing the sky surrounded by railings and steel-plated panels. The whole thing is so massive, it makes Atsumu feel dizzy. On the left, a sturdy door seems to be leading in. It’s an impressive structure. And it looks like it’s in pretty good shape, too. From his position, Atsumu can’t see inside from the gap in the roof, but he does notice the faint light coming through.

Curiosity killed the cat, or whatever. The door makes a truly horrifying noise when he pushes it open and Atsumu finds himself in a circular room overtaken with complex wiring and strange panels. It’s even more spacious than it looks from the outside. In the center, a massive cylinder surrounded by other, smaller, cylinders, is pointing at the sky through the gap in the roof. A telescope, Atsumu realizes, fascinated. So that’s the real deal, huh?

There’s a metal staircase leading to the bottom of the telescope and a white board covered in complicated equations laying against it.

A man startles at his entrance, turning around in his office chair, and with one look, makes Atsumu feel self-conscious about his entire existence. “What are you doing here?”

He’s handsome, Atsumu supposes, dark curls framing his face, which is now caught in an expression somewhere between surprise and annoyance. It’s an impressive frown, even by his own standards. It’s fascinating to look at. He’s wearing warm, comfortable clothes, but Atsumu spots the official-looking ID card on the lanyard around his neck. No, screw that. This is the real deal.

Atsumu says the first thing that comes to mind. “Wow. Had no idea they were doin’ research up here.”

The man stands up to cross his arms over his chest and he gives Atsumu a quick look-over, upper lip curling in disdain. “What the fuck are you talking about. This is a _research_ facility. You’re not allowed to be here.”

Atsumu puts his hands up in surrender. He points at himself and offers his most pleasant smile, the one that’s full of teeth to make up for a lack of feeling. “Name’s Miya Atsumu. Imma pro volleyball player. Ya can google me.”

The stare he gets is downright scathing. “Fine. I also work at the camp just down the hill,” he tries again and then adds, “I do great with kids!” when all he gets in return is the lift of a single eyebrow.

“Sure, you do. Must be a mental age thing.”

The man is now staring at the cartoon characters on his pajama pants.

“Oh, piss off. I wasn’t expectin’ to run into anyone.”

That gets him an aggravated sigh, and a warning. “Clearly. I don’t really care who you are, but if you’re not out of here in the next five seconds, I’m going to have to call security.”

Holding eye contact, he extends his hand towards the phone on the table he was sitting at. Atsumu steps back.

“Chill. No need for that. ‘Was just curious about this place. Not here to spy on yer research or anythin’.” He points at the telescope with his chin. “The only constellation I know’s the one with the bear.”

That earns him another sigh, but the man slowly retracts his hand. He keeps the guarded expression, though.

“I hope you know there’s nothing about your appearance right now that even remotely suggests I should be trusting you.”

Atsumu can’t really argue with that.

“Fine, ‘right. I’ll get goin’.” He offers another smile, a little sheepish this time, and makes a sweeping gesture at himself, encompassing his sweaty shirt, silly pajamas and mud-covered feet. “Sorry—about all this. Not a great first impression. I swear I normally look way better.”

Damage control never hurt anyone.

“Somehow, I really doubt that.”

He looks like he doesn’t care much for a second impression. Atsumu laughs and turns around, ready to leave. What a night. When was the last time he’d done something so stupid with this high of a pay-off? When was the last time he got roasted by someone other than his brother? He stops in his tracks with his hand on the door. “Right. Anyway, what’s yer name, science guy?”

“No.”

Fine.

It was worth a shot.

*

The next morning, Atsumu wakes up in a daze, half inclined to believe he dreamed the entire thing. He doesn’t remember how he got to his cabin, only that he fell face first on his pillow. Going by the crick in his neck and his dirty clothes, he probably didn’t move an inch until he woke up. The dried mud on his feet and under his toenails is the only other indicator he might not have full-on hallucinated an astronomy tower and the dark-haired scientist with an abrasive personality he found inside. His bed covers are disgusting.

Truth is, it had felt like a dream, a particularly vivid one. Too vivid, perhaps. Too tangible. He can still feel the wetness of the grass and the humid ground underneath his feet. He remembers how cold the metal handle of the observatory’s door had been underneath his touch, how dark the eyes of that stranger had been. Dark, so dark. Like the bottom of the sea or a distant corner of the galaxy.

Maybe Atsumu unknowingly fell into a black hole. Maybe that would explain the pull at the center of his chest, this itch to return, like he can’t escape.

Going by the weird looks he gets on his way to the showers, he must look as rattled as he feels and he makes the executive decision to keep the entire thing to himself. He doesn’t need Kita, or anyone, to question the sanity of their camp counselor. He'll figure things out on his own. 

But because Atsumu is the way that he is, and because it eats at him the whole morning, his resolve goes out the window the minute he sits down in front of Iwaizumi with his lunch on a tray in the camp’s cafeteria. The other counselor pauses mid-bite. Whether it's because he looks like a mess or because he's initiating a social interaction for the first time since he arrived, Atsumu doesn't know and he doesn't care.

"You alright?"

“Say,” he begins, ignoring Iwaizumi's question, “have ya ever made the hike to the observatory tower?”

Iwaizumi snorts. “Yeah?" He pauses to swallow his food. “I jog up and down the mountain every morning. It's a good workout.”

“You ever been at night?”

“I don't think so? I'm not actively trying to fall in a ditch or anything. Bet the view is nice up there, though.”

“Huh.”

"Plus, I know some people work there. I don't think they allow visitors." Iwaizumi shoots him a strange look. “Why do you ask anyway?”

This isn’t good. “No reason, really.” Atsumu shoves a piece of bread in his mouth. “We’re just talkin’ here,” he says, and immediately regrets opening his mouth, “but have ya ever felt this—weird urge to go back to a place for no reason?”

Iwaizumi’s lips quirk up. “Are you talking about a place or a person? Did you fall in love with the astronomy tower or something?”

Atsumu rolls his eyes and scoffs. Yeah right. “’Course not. Never mind.”

The pull only grows stronger.

In spite of Atsumu’s best efforts, work keeps him busy well after the sun disappears below the mountains and evening settles in. There’s a new group of kids coming in the next day and the place has to be spotless and ready by the time they arrive, which means a lot of running around. He gets assigned kitchen duty and, if Kita notices his absent stare or the renewed vigor with which he scrubs the dinner’s dishes clean at the end of the meal, he doesn’t say a word about it and waits until Atsumu is about to leave before cornering him in the doorway. 

He digs into his jacket’s pocket and hands him a flashlight, gaze expectant.

Atsumu blinks in surprise. “Ho—How did ya know.”

“You’re bein’ weirder than usual.” Kita smiles before getting out of the way. “And people talk. Iwaizumi told me he was afraid you’d hurt yourself.”

“Oh.”

For some reason, Atsumu can’t bring himself to be mad about it. Despite the embarrassment, he almost feels a bit touched. 

“Did you—,” he stops, swallows, tries again, “When you told me about the observatory, did ya know?”

Kita considers him in silence. His expression is kinda hard to decipher. Atsumu wishes the ground would swallow him whole.

“I didn't know if you'd end up going or not,” Kita says, speaking slowly, “I told ya about it because I had a feeling you’d like it, that’s it.”

Of course. God, Atsumu feels so stupid.

Kita puts a hand over his shoulder before he can spiral down. He’s smiling again. “That bein’ said. Be careful and have a little faith in yerself, will ya? If you feel like you have to go back, you probably should.”

*

As expected, the proper footwear and a decent light source do make a difference. The hike still feels like it’s taking forever, but at least this time Atsumu doesn’t have to worry about twisting his ankle on a rock or falling off a cliff. Still, there’s only so much a good pair of shoes can do about the tightness in his chest and his sweaty palms.

Coming back is a bad idea, no matter how he looks at it. He’s trespassing at best and at worst, he’s proving to himself that he has completely gone off the rails. Atsumu can hear the blood pulsing in his ears.

The fence with the Private Oroperty sign appears too soon and Atsumu slows down in a vain attempt at delaying the inevitable. He’s a meteor on a crash trajectory. The line of the trees disappears behind his back and he arrives at the same clearing he remembers from the night before.

The astronomy tower is still standing and Atsumu doesn’t know whether to feel relieved or disappointed.

Of all the scenarios he’s had running through his head, he didn’t expect one where the mystery man is waiting for him outside, standing next to a smaller telescope, the kind that Aran used to bring with him at sleepovers when they were in middle school.

He turns around when the light of Atsumu’s flashlight brushes over him. There’s a flash of recognition in his eyes when Atsumu approaches, heart in his throat. He crosses his arms, wind ruffling his hair.

Atsumu opens his mouth with the intention to say something, anything at all, but the other man interrupts before he can get a word out.

“Miya Atsumu shouldn’t be here.”

He’s a meteor on a crash trajectory and his world is burning.

*

ii.

The truth about astronomy is that it requires a certain suspension of disbelief. The scale of the theories it’s trying to decipher is sometimes too massive to even begin to comprehend. The overwhelming majority of the universe is thought to be made of invisible matter. Every day, new discoveries redefine the laws of physics as we know them. Most of what is being studied exists on an entirely different plane of existence, forever out of reach, where distance is measured in years and no longer in miles.

So, when a lunatic burst into the observatory tower in the middle of the night wearing ridiculous pants and dragging mud everywhere, claiming to be some hotshot volleyball player, Sakusa _tries_ (important keyword here) to keep an open mind.

He’s annoyed, of course. Working alone is supposed to mean less distractions and a tiled floor covered in dirt and a stranger with nebulous intentions do indeed qualify as distractions. But—call it scientific curiosity or whatever—he’s intrigued, nonetheless.

The man, Miya Atsumu as he’d introduced himself, vanishes as suddenly as he had appeared when Sakusa threatens him and he is left standing outside in the chilly night staring at the dark mass of trees where Atsumu disappeared. Sakusa does not believe in ghosts, but then again, people did not believe the Earth orbited the sun until a few centuries ago.

He wipes down the floors, tries to forget the weird encounter and wishes his mind would focus back on the binary black holes he is supposed to be studying—his time in the observatory is limited, and precious—but, for the life of him, Sakusa can’t get his mind off the guy. He’d looked like the human embodiment of a car crash, wild eyes and wilder hair, high off adrenaline. A wreck.

Nothing makes sense. Ghosts do not leave mud in their tracks. As far as he knows, there’s no summer camp down the hill. The astronomy tower is situated at the top of a mountain in a recluse corner of a rural area. There’s just no way a professional volleyball player stumbled into the research tower.

Astronomy requires suspension of disbelief. And an inquisitive mind.

Sakusa sighs and whips up a fresh sheet of paper and a pen, pushing his notes on the gravitational pull of two black holes orbiting each other and his lingering thoughts about the paranormal aside.

There are a few possible theories here. Miya Atsumu could be lying about who he is. Miya Atsumu could also be saying the truth about the summer camp. Maybe there’s a volleyball training centre nearby. Maybe he’s just a stargazer.

It all sounds stupid.

Sakusa eyes the dirty rags he used to clean up the mud he left by the door. Chances are Miya Atsumu is not coming back. He looks up at the night through the ceiling and wishes he didn’t give a damn.

The sky is blue (most of the time, from our perspective here on Earth anyway). The grass is green (only in certain places, under certain conditions). Sakusa Kiyoomi does not deal well with unpredictability (Miya Atsumu, whoever he is, is an unknown variable).

His calculations are shit for the rest of the night.

*

“Miya Atsumu shouldn’t be here,” Sakusa says, when Atsumu shows up again the next day, fully aware of how dramatic he sounds but not really giving a damn, too busy trying to ignore the way his heartbeat is hammering in his chest.

There’s a stutter in Atsumu's steps when Sakusa speaks, but the surprise on his face quickly fades into amusement. “Waddya mean? You talkin’ about that Private Property sign?” Atsumu snorts and stops a few feet away from his telescope. He crosses his arms over his chest. “Don’t worry, m’not going back inside the tower.”

Atsumu grins at him, a genuine, crooked thing, and sits down on the ground. He’s wearing shoes this time, Sakusa notes. And decent outdoor wear. He almost looks normal. Too normal to be some kind of hallucination brought up by Sakusa’s tired brain.

“Not workin’ inside today, are ya?”

“The moon is too bright for me to see the system I’m studying. I’ll go back inside later.” He also thought he’d look for meteors while he’s at it, but Atsumu doesn’t need to know that. Sakusa already feels like he’s indulging him too much.

“What are ya lookin’ at, anyway?”

He considers the other man in silence. Atsumu stretches his neck to look up at him from where he sits on the ground and even in the dark, his eyes are some of the prettiest things Sakusa has ever seen. Atsumu doesn’t need to know that either.

“I won’t tell, promise.” Atsumu is holding up his pinky expectantly.

Sakusa doesn’t budge.

“Sakusa Kiyoomi,” he offers instead, immediately biting his own tongue. “Are you this nosy with every stranger you meet?”

Atsumu grins and drops his hand, undeterred. “And are ya always this prickly, Omi?”

“Yes.”

“Well, Omi-omi, are ya goin’ to call security on me tonight?”

“Keep using that nickname and I just might.”

Atsumu barks out a laugh but otherwise remains in blessed silence while Sakusa finishes setting up his equipment. He takes more time than usual, stealing glances at Atsumu out of the corner of his eyes. Atsumu looks strangely at peace, leaning back on his hands to observe the night sky. If anything, Sakusa can relate. 

He doesn’t quite remember how or when he first became obsessed with the vastness of the universe. All he knows now is that staring up at the infinite darkness above is the only time where his own powerlessness feels reassuring. Space is comforting, in a nihilistic sort of way. Realistically, there’s nothing he can do down here on Earth that will impact the Universe in any significant manner.

He likes his job for all kinds of personal, selfish reasons, too. No point in worrying about extraterrestrial germs when they don’t even exist on the same plane he does. He’s not afraid of the dark anymore. He gets to be by himself a lot, mind his own business. His work requires teamwork at times, if only for the sake of efficiency, but he firmly believes no one has experienced true solitude until they’ve spent the night staring at a vast emptiness with nothing but the stars and their own thoughts for company.

Atsumu meets his eyes and Sakusa struggles to find something to say. Atsumu beats him to the punch.

“What’s yer favorite constellation?”

Sakusa gives up pretending to fiddle with his telescope. “Miya. Why did you come back.”

“Omi, I didn’t think ya cared.”

“I don’t.”

Atsumu snorts. “The view of the sky’s a lot nicer up here, that’s all. I’m curious about ya, too, I gotta say,” he adds in a surprising show of honesty. Atsumu leans down on his back, arms stretched above his head. “I’ll leave if I’m botherin’ ya, though.”

His voice softens over his last words and Sakusa doesn’t like the way it makes him feel.

He doesn’t answer right away because technically, Atsumu isn’t. Sakusa’s not working, and he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t at least a little bit curious about him as well. (Strictly scientifically speaking). Atsumu looks like he has a lot on his mind. (Not that Sakusa cares at all about a stranger’s _état d’âme_ ).

When it becomes obvious Atsumu is not going to add anything, Sakusa rolls his eyes, figuring he can meet him halfway. “I study black holes,” he says, “two black holes, in particular—they’re called binary black holes. They’re orbiting each other and it looks like they might collide soon. I want to document what happens then, it’s my thesis.”

When he looks down, Atsumu is staring at him eyes as wide as saucers. Sakusa fights his urge to turn around and will the ground to swallow him whole. “And I don’t have a favorite constellation,” he mutters, face growing hot, “too many stars.”

Atsumu blinks. “That’s fair—Oh!” He points at the sky. “Shooting star!”

_This is a mistake_ , Sakusa thinks, looking up just as another meteor shoots across the sky . The trail is bright. It lingers. Looks like Sakusa won’t be needing his telescope after all. His hands feel clammy.

"Do astronomers make a wish when they see shooting stars," Atsumu wonders aloud, "or is that above them?"

Sakusa glares. "Stars _are_ above us, Miya. If you want to get technical."

Atsumu laughs again, throwing his head back. It's a nice sound.

_This is a mistake_ , Sakusa things again, harder.

Thankfully, a few other meteors light up the sky in quick succession, diverting Atsumu's attention from the way Sakusa’s hands have started to shake. Sakusa exhales quietly, clenching his fists a few times in hopes of grounding himself again. It feels like too much all of a sudden.

"I'm going back inside," he announces, folding his telescope back up with sharp, clippy, movements. He didn't even get to look at anything through it. And that's the issue, isn't it?

"Alright?" Atsumu sounds confused but Sakusa wills himself not to care.

No one follows him back inside the tower.

*

The next few nights are rainy and foggy, which gives him a great excuse not to visit the observatory.

Sakusa holes himself up in the research center halfway down the mountain where he and the other researchers are staying and catches up on his thesis reports. He does not think about Atsumu, does not wonder if he's still visiting the tower, does not wonder if he came back to wait for him on top of the mountain or if he ran into Oikawa instead.

He knows he's overreacting—he overshared to a stranger with pretty eyes, what about it—but there's little he can do to fix it. This isn’t anything new.

After awhile, there’s a sense of detachment that comes with observing the vacuum of space from millions of light-years away. Distance feels safe, but Sakusa thinks he might have gotten too accustomed to it. It bleeds into his personal life and anything more intimate than a look exchanged through a lens, any touch that isn’t clinical or practical, any conversation that isn’t purely straightforward, is like balancing on a tightrope stretched over a ravine—hanging on for dear life, knowing it’s unlikely he’ll reach the ground unscathed. He has traced careful physical boundaries around his own person and if, over time, his desire for solitude slowly morphed into an aversion for company then it doesn’t matter. In the grand scheme of things, nothing really matters.

Sakusa does not think about Miya Atsumu’s eyes. He does not think about his outstretched hand, about his pinky, the curve of his neck, his stupid hair.

The sky is a mystery. Miya Atsumu is an enigma. Sakusa Kiyoomi would very much like to be excluded from this narrative where being vulnerable feels like the end of the world.

He goes back to his research paper and pretends he doesn’t feel the weird void in his chest cavity.

*

As fate would have it, they run into each other again, at the research center this time. A section of it opened to the public a few months ago for ‘fun’ and ‘interactive’ info sessions aimed at kids, where they can learn about the solar system and watch movies about it. Normally, Sakusa would have nothing to do with it, thank you very much. Today, however, he’s filling in for Oikawa who overworked himself again and is stuck in bed with a fever . It’s the lesser of two evils , Sakusa told himself, the other hypothetical evil being Oikawa spreading his germs all around the compound.

The center has been pretty quiet. It’s the middle of the week and there are no school groups around (good), which also means there is no way for Sakusa to avoid Atsumu when he walks through the door, stupid hair and annoying attitude in tow (bad). Sakusa tries very hard not to see it as a sign that the universe is conspiring against him. 

“Omi! Whatta surprise.”

Atsumu looks great in casual sportswear, Sakusa and his feelings be damned.

“What are you doing here.”

“Ah.” Atsumu takes off his cap and scratches the back of his head. “It’s my day off. I can’t go very far and another counselor told me ‘bout this place.”

Sakusa stares. Atsumu definitely has the physique of a professional athlete. He doesn’t want to deal with this.

“Come back another day.”

“No way! I have to see—for the movie—” Atsumu looks down at the ticket he’s holding in his hand, “— _Space Frontiers: Our Solar System and What Lies Beyond_ .”

_Ugh._ Sakusa didn’t think he’d be the type to buy his ticket in advance.

“Fine,” he says, rolling his eyes, and staring down at his watch, “It’s about to start. I hope you like documentaries aimed at 12-year-olds. You should feel right at home.”

“Pleasant as always, Omi-omi.”

Atsumu has the gall to grin while motioning for Sakusa to lead the way.

On record, he’s been heard saying it’s unpractical and dumb but off record, Sakusa thinks the projection room is pretty cool. It’s shaped like a small dome and the whole ceiling acts as the screen. They also opted for bean bags instead of traditional seats, assuming, with reason, that the kids would love it. It’s cozy.

He scans Atsumu’s ticket then watches as he flops down on one of the bean bags with a groan. “Enjoy. The movie should start in a few minutes.”

“Yer not stayin’? What if I have questions?”

Sakusa snorts. “Did you miss the part where I said this was for middle schoolers?”

“Please?”

Atsumu pats the bean bag next to him, an expectant look on his face, and Sakusa sighs. Technically, it _is_ part of his job. There should be someone at the front desk. The beanbags are clean, no one used them today.

He makes his way over, stubbornly avoiding eye contact. Atsumu drags another bag closer to rest his feet on it and Sakusa clicks his tongue in annoyance, but the movie starts before he can say anything.

Sakusa doesn’t pay attention. He’s seen the movie dozens of times already. What he does is indulge and observe Atsumu instead, staring unabashedly just to see him sport the same rapt expression he sees on the kids that visit, eyes shining, mouth open in surprise, gasping when the narration picks up. Images of supernovas above paint his face shades of reds and purples and Sakusa is reminded yet again that space is a pro at first impressions.

He thinks about his thesis, about black holes and event horizons. The point of no return. About two bodies orbiting each other, inching closer and closer and closer until they collide or dissolve or consume one another. 

The movie ends after half an hour, credits flashing on the screen on a backdrop and this is when Sakusa should stand up to flip the lights back on. This is when Atsumu should stretch and be on his way. Instead, they remain sitting in the dark, quiet, until Atsumu breaks the silence.

“Hey Omi, are ya upset with me?”

Sakusa doesn’t need to see him to know Atsumu doesn’t usually asks these types of questions. “Thought the Q&A session would be about the movie,” he says, and then adds, “No, I’m not. Mad, I mean,” figuring the least he can do is be honest in return. Sakusa Kiyoomi is mean, but he's not cruel.

_“I’m upset with myself. Overwhelmed, because I feel like I shared a personal thing with a stranger, and I didn’t hate it. Because I can’t remember the last time I met a stranger, and didn’t want him to be a stranger. Because I don’t do very well with intimacy on all levels .”_ Is what he wants to say. But Atsumu doesn’t need to know that.

Atsumu hums. “Y’know,” he says, “I’m volunteerin’ at camp because I had a breakdown over my twin brother gettin’ engaged. Dumb, right? Didn’t think he cared about relationships and now it feels like I’m bein’ left behind. I hate that it took me weeks of sulkin’ to realize it. And I still haven’t called him. Pretty pathetic, huh?”

“Yeah.” Sakusa feels winded. That’s a lot of information to unpack—of course Atsumu has a fucking twin—but it finally feels like they’re back on some kind of level ground.

“Yer not s’posed to agree.”

“You did ask.”

Atsumu groans and sinks deeper into his beanbag, muttering under his breath. Sakusa has to ask. “Are you the firstborn.”

He can feel Atsumu frowning on his right. “How did ya know.”

“You just seem like the kind of person who’d get a complex about it.”

Atsumu lets out a strangled noise and makes it known that Sakusa is, in fact, the one giving him a complex, and Sakusa is glad the darkness is there to conceal the smile tugging at his lips. He feels alright.

This should be the moment they both stand up and leave, be on their way, exist outside of each other’s orbits until fate sees it fit to catapult them back on each other’s trajectory. Instead, they remain sitting in the dark, quiet, until Sakusa’s heartbeat breaks the silence.

It’s loud and strong in his ears, it’s in his throat, it’s all over. Sakusa has never been one to tempt fate, he thinks, slowly extending a hand. Slowly, slowly, until it rests waiting, _wanting_ in the space between them. 

Sakusa thinks of the collision between two black holes and the infinitesimal gravitational pull that exists between two people and how inevitable it all is. He thinks about how freeing it feels to let it happen.

Point of impact. 

There are no gravitational waves (that he can perceive), no interdimensional portal opening up (in this dimension, anyway), no revolutionary theory to disprove.

There is nothing but the reality-shattering discovery of a curl of a pinky against his.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading!!
> 
> Even though it took me awhile to write this fic the way i wanted to, I had a lot of fun! I love space and this was super self-indulgent!!
> 
> Hmu on [twitter](http://www.twitter.com/fl4nel) !!


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